29 July 2011

Notes - another misunderstanding, as usual / early evening with the Paik's

Late mid-morning. Newspapers caught up, breakfast, bedroom cleaned up, bath. You are ready to pack for Cleveland or not. Carol has been watering the flowers and lawn since dawn. She also watered yesterday afternoon. No real relief from heat seen until next Wednesday aside from a possible shower today. Possible, not probable, at least in your mind. What do you think about your new-found ‘no’?

         I didn’t like the concept of any direct communication between G---D and any human being, and while this is fiction I ought to have control. First, the concept evokes power to the human or group of human beings. It reminds me of Delphi and the power of the priests and priestesses. Corruption is bound to happen. I don’t want corruption of that sort to be a part of these books even if they are  FICTION.

         That isn’t going to happen, boy. You missed the intent. – Amorella. 

         Probably so. What else is new. I’m glad there is no Piper or Piper-like character in this book, and I hope in any of the others. Too many complications – far beyond my thoughts on metaphysics.

         You are indeed funny, orndorff, knowing full well that most all of this is beyond your full comprehension.  – Amorella        

         I can’t argue with the truth. We are off to Cleveland in a few minutes.

         Post. – Amorella.



You are at The Children’s Center wing of the First Baptist Church in Cleveland Heights picking up Owen. Kim and Carol have gone in for the eighteen month old boy. . . . Supper at Cleveland Heights’ Brennan’s Colony on Lee – a super cheese sandwich with a side of onion rings along with a 7-Up, same for Carol though she had green beans. Kim had a cheeseburger and onion rings. Owen had a cheese stick and half a quarter pounder beef hot dog. Alas, Paul is still in surgery but Kim brought him a take out chicken. . . . . Home, Paul arrives, baby’s had a bath, play time before bed. You are ready for bed and it’s not even twenty-hundred hours. Later, dude, or perhaps tomorrow. – Amorella. 

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